Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth. You pull on your finger, then another finger, then your cigarette. The wall-to-wall is calling, it lingers, then you forget oh, how, how, how, you're a rock n roll suicide. (David Bowie, Rock and roll suicide).
Yea dog boy it’s finally here. The end has arrived and there is nowhere to turn to. You have successfully accomplished destroying the last ray of hope you had left. The last beam of light came shining out of your iPhone. Maybe all is not lost.
I can still hear the last text dear brother just sent me, “SHUT Up! Shut Up! SHUT Up! I was laughing hysterically as I know he was and he was trying to explain to his wonderful wife and two boys why Uncle Mike and daddy were acting so strange.
There really is no explanation for it. Mental health goes deep into the roots of the tree of life and the black blood that runs through the branches and kills the leaves off dead is a hard, hard flow of life to get through, get over and to go on.
Mom and dad made a lot of mistakes as parents. I suppose most parents would say the same thing about their parent’s grandparents, etc.
How many families can tell a story about a vicious hateful little man who had 8 kids by the virgin woman in the west Jefferson side of the universe in a small log cabin that he built where this absolutely vile creature from somewhere deeper than hell had sex with some of his daughters probably one of his sons, knew the sons and daughters were having sex with each other. Pap which was what dad called his dad finally picked the daughter he wanted for his own and he moved her out to their new home and a CHILD was born! And the child died but no one knows what or who killed the baby. Maybe it was just natural causes. Of course when we look at pap and this man’s frightening life, it’s hard to believe that anything was from natural causes.
It didn’t end here. My grandpa molested me and probably two more of the brother’s but don’t take a deep breath yet. None of us were left untouched or without scars.
The sins of my grandpa didn’t end till the day he died. Pap was a fruit jar Baptist which means he was an ordained preacher who would carry around a fruit jar 0f moonshine and preach to the people in London, West Jefferson and all round that area. The followers would also have their own fruit jars of moonshine with them, made for quite an exciting sermon. Amen!!
When pap was an old man he decided to go to a home for handicapped children and was able to convince them to place with him a young girl that he would raise and she would take care of him. Yep to live with this man the courts of London Ohio gave a fruit jar Baptist molesting and possiblly murdering man the legal right to adopt a 14 or 15 year old girl who had mental handicaps move in with him. She would cook clean and have sex with him. Of course he and the courts and Home where she came failed to mention that.
When combining all of the elements here you come up with this: The facts here is that a man like my grandpa could have convinced anyone let alone enough people to allow this girl to come and live with him and never check-up on her again. Filthy burger of a man. The same judge that oversaw the virgin and pap’s divorce at a time when people just didn’t get divorced. The other fallout from all the sexual deviance of grandpa was Uncle Bill. I don’t know why but Billy Mike couldn’t wait to drag my body and my brother’s body, who is truly the king of denial, being dragged across uncle Bill’s barely dressded fat hairy body and to add to the insanity here in walked my grandma, my mother’s mom.
Yep we called pap’s new woman poor dumb Mary. Pap stuck around for a while with poor dumb Mary. I don't remember if I ever met poor dumb Mary.
It was just another broken sequence of events of a conversation when the Browns were on the TV and dad was drunk on Burger beer.
I loved this woman as a real grandparent. The only one. The virgin was a decent and good woman but the devastation of her life had made it impossible to have any real connection to her. There just wasn’t a connection. I also don’t remember when she didn’t have Parkinson’s disease. This disease was what my dad suffered from the last fifteen or twenty years of his life.
There have been five generations of Parkinson’s disease in my family consequently one of the four of us boys is next, at least one of us.
Grandma Fleming, my mother’s mother lived with her first cousin Melvin who was a pig farmer that smoked a pipe. We all knew that Melvin and grandma were having sex but after the horrible story of my grandpa, and that’s just one it’s hard to find anything wrong with it.
Helen and Melvin was really a very sweet story. Melvin loved my grandma dearly and for that reason I ignored Melvin. That man and I never got along. Mom finally admitted that Melvin used to try to get her to go to bed with him and it wasn’t to pick lint off the pillows. There really is nothing beautiful in this family.
But wait… Even though the four boys have carried a lot of karma and made their own mistakes my mom and dad broke the terrible cycle placed on the children and the four boys continued to follow the right oath. Our children have taken that even farther and my grandson lives such a beautiful and precious life. The sunflowers grow so grand and majestic in my daughter’s yard.
As the days go by with dad being gone for four years and the fact that I haven’t scratched the surface of his life, how he really did affect my life, the Parkinson’s and finally his death. With mom finally wanting to go to a nursing home in Lima which is closer to dear brother and me when I finally get to go home. With the added hidden misery of my brother and his wife and children in that god forsaken town of Plain City. They carry a torch of the love that they have for each other and that damn town. I wanted to love that town but I just couldn't. , and my brother who mom and dad were convinced was not named after my dad and how his life finally caught up with him at fifty-five. He was so naive. I know, hard to believe but here we all are scared shitless. And yet here is my brother whose life is is daughter ia finding his way back.
We always do. But yes time starts playing to the scheme of things. Just ask dad. No wait you can't. He's not here.
The whole story weighs my hands down and it makes it hard to continue but for my sanity and a life where I am free for at least fifteen or twenty years I am greatful to be able to wash the sins of my perpetrators off of me.
My mother will only shake her hands and shake her head and gasp there’s a lot I don’t want to know about that man” whenever talking about her dad.
There were mysteries and there were rumors about the Greensboro’s and there were wild and fitful tales about the haunted town of Plain City but then what is truth and what is an illusion?
At Select there there were one or two or more of the medicines that were combining inside my head to create these elaborate and insane dreams that still when I wake up it takes me a few minutes to get my head straight.
One from an elaborate orgy type of thing with three Australian guys and two Australian girls and one of the nurses at the Select place to a musical about Hell where the Maury Povich was now sending people to hell. I was on his show and it was this elaborate musical about my life with the entire Pink Floyd catalog and the same was true with The Beatles, The Band "Yes" along with an enormous collection of other music. Frank Zappa was all over the place.
I don’t know how long this hallucination went on but I do know that I was comatose for three days and a day and a half of that was at Select Services Hospital where I laid in my bed for weeks before throwing up, not being able to swallow or eat, not receiving physical therapy, not being cleaned up or taken care of. The list can go on forever. My dear wonderful daughter came in on one of her regular visits and found me like this. Luckily one of nurses that was always super kind to me called the squad to send me to OSU Hospital. I don’t know how long Select would have let me lay there in a coma but we are damn sure going to find out.
These elaborate hallucinations were digging deep into my past but they were also digging back the planets past, the infinite universe and it was showing me the doors that I have opened and what now to do since they are open. Consciousness has whispered in my ear like solar flares from the sun. It’s time to listen.
I sent to my brother and his wife an their two boys gift cards from amazon. I wrote a not on each and then sent the ecards. Chuckles read my note and it made him cry because I told him that we would once again have our adventures which made me sob. It was a good and joyous crying.
My daughter has been diligent and with purpose to make sure I am safe and making sure I am protected from my greatest enemy, myself. She has been a gift to me. She loves me unconditionally as does dear brother, his wife and their two boys. And of course there is my precious grandson who just turned two. I am sticking around for a while so I can see him grow up. SoI can see all of us and all of us get older.
Hey hey! Life is grand!
What more can anyone ask for.
cool peace
hippy mile
love
spirit
such a groovy time